number of years to establish itself firmly in critical and popular
estimation.

We have now reached a period of Pasta's life where its chronicle becomes
painful. It is never pleasant to watch the details of the decadence
which comes to almost all art-careers. Her warmest admirers could not
deny that Pasta was losing her voice. Her consummate art shone undimmed,
but her vocal powers, especially in respect of intonation, displayed the
signs of wear. For several years, indeed, she sang in Paris, Italy, and
London with great _eclat_, but the indescribable luster of her singing
had lost its bloom and freshness. She continued to receive Continental
honors, and in 1840, after a splendid season in St. Petersburg, she was
dismissed by the Czar with magnificent presents. In Berlin, about this
time, she was received with the deepest interest and commiseration, for
she lost nearly all her entire fortune by the failure of Engmuller,
a banker of Vienna. She filled a long engagement in Berlin, which was
generously patronized by the public, not merely out of admiration of
the talents of the artist, but with the wish of repairing in some small
measure her great losses. After 1841 Pasta retired from the stage,
spending her winters at Milan, her summers at Lake Como, and devoting
herself to training pupils in the higher walks of the lyric art.

We can not better close this sketch than by giving an account of one of
the very last public appearances of her life, when she allowed herself
to be seduced into giving a concert in London for the benefit of the
Italian cause. Mme. Pasta had long since dismissed all the belongings
of the stage, and her voice, which at its best had required ceaseless
watching and study, had been given up by her. Even her person had
lost all that stately dignity and queenlfness which had made her stage
appearance so remarkable. It was altogether a painful and disastrous
occasion. There were artists present who then for the first time were
to get their impression of a great singer, prepared of course to believe
that that reputation had been exaggerated. Among these was Rachel, who
sat enjoying the humiliation of decayed grandeur with a cynical and
bitter sneer on her face, drawing the attention of the theatre by her
exhibition of satirical malevolence.

Malibran's great sister, Mme. Pauline Viardot, was also present,
watching with the quick, sympathetic response of a noble heart every
turn of the singer's voice and